After helping Rock put away the various firearms, Fatima prepared to head upstairs and rest.
The bedroom they were in had once belonged to their parents.
After their parents died, it became a place where the sisters could remember them and feel close to the past.
Now that Camilla had brought Rock home, the generous Fatima decided to give the two of them some privacy.
“Locke, maybe I’ll come back down later.”
Before heading upstairs, Fatima planted a warm kiss on Rock’s cheek, then turned and left.
Rock watched her graceful, alluring figure disappear and managed a faint smile.
Her straightforward personality was rather endearing.
People here were remarkably open about such things.
They spoke about them without embarrassment, as casually as eating or drinking.
“My dear Locke, I think you’ll enjoy learning more about Brazil’s samba culture.”
Camilla started playing music on her phone, and a lively, passionate rhythm filled the room.
That night, Camilla sang several samba-rock songs for Rock at the top of her lungs.
The passionate lyrics and intense rhythm gave him another close-up experience of the unique appeal of Brazilian samba.
Unfortunately, this kind of music was rather demanding on its audience.
Only a man enhanced by the system could sit through several songs without showing signs of exhaustion.
Rock had once come across an online survey claiming that Brazilians averaged forty-five minutes, yet a third of the women surveyed were still unsatisfied.
Like many other people in the comments, Rock had written, “Give me a system and a pair of titanium kidneys.
I want to do my part for everyone.”
Watching Camilla hold on to him while vigorously shaking her hips to the samba rhythm, Rock could not help wondering whether that comment was the reason he had ended up in Brazil.
Fortunately, his wish had not gone unanswered.
With a Physical Constitution at the human limit, even Fatima would be no problem for him.
He decided not to dwell on it.
That was a matter for another day.
The next morning, Fatima made a point of approaching him.
“Locke, I’ve realized Camilla was right.
You really are incredibly strong.
Keep it up.
This family needs you.”
Rock smiled at the eighteen-year-old woman, who looked far more mature than her age.
“Fatima, whenever you work the night shift, I can come pick you up if you need me.”
That earned him another kiss.
She was gradually beginning to treat him like part of the family.
“Thank you, Locke.
You’re a thoughtful man.
I’m glad we met.
I’ll call you when I need you.”
Fatima left for work.
She worked two jobs, one at a restaurant and another at a café.
Camilla told Rock that people often described Brazilians as laid-back, but that lifestyle mostly belonged to the wealthy.
Many favela residents had to work several jobs just to keep their families fed.
There was little room for leisure in the favela.
Camilla normally worked at a nail salon and a supermarket.
For the time being, however, she could not return to either job.
At the nudist beach in Copacabana, she had accidentally witnessed a deal involving Ricardo’s men.
Then Jacaré betrayed her, allowing Ricardo to learn more about her.
Ricardo’s men were now searching the outskirts of the nearby favelas for any sign of her, leaving her no choice but to hide with Rock in Slope 21.
Fortunately, they had taken part of Jacaré’s savings, so the sisters would not have to worry about food for the next few months.
After Fatima left for work, Camilla took Rock around Slope 21 to familiarize him with the area.
“This is Ferreira’s restaurant.
His rice with black beans and stewed beef is the best food around here.”
Camilla strolled through Slope 21 with Rock, pointing out the local shops as they went.
The territory covered an area roughly six hundred meters long and more than two hundred meters wide.
Aside from the central street, which was barely wide enough for two cars to pass side by side, both sides were filled with narrow alleys.
Houses crowded together in layers, stacked across the slope like building blocks.
Many of the paths were barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
With the gang badge pinned to his clothes, Rock received a friendly welcome from the residents.
Everyone there understood what the badge meant and showed him the appropriate respect.
With Camilla guiding him, Rock learned where Elena’s territory bordered those of the neighboring factions.
Elena’s territory shared borders with three groups: Fat Barros, Quintana, and Cavallero.
Fat Barros and Quintana controlled the area uphill, Cavallero held the territory to the right, and a cliff lay to the left.
Throughout Rio de Janeiro’s major favelas, graffiti marked the boundaries of gang territory.
Each gang had its own distinctive symbol.
Where two factions met, both groups painted their symbols along the edge of their territory.
Only people familiar with the favela could read the important information hidden among the countless pieces of street art, including where one gang’s territory ended and another began.
Elena’s symbol was the same abstract rose shown on the badge, accompanied by streaks of red paint representing blood.
Fat Barros used a shark passing through a large letter B.
Quintana’s symbol was a hand gripping a dagger amid flames.
Cavallero used a cross guarded by two crossed rifles.
At Camilla’s prompting, Rock noticed places where Elena’s territory met those of the neighboring factions.
Two separate symbols had been painted on the same wall, clearly marking the boundary.
The territory uphill belonged to Fat Barros and Quintana, while Cavallero’s territory lay beside it.
Walking through a typical Brazilian favela neighborhood with Camilla gave Rock a completely different perspective from that of a tourist.
Visitors seeking excitement came and left in a hurry.
Rock was different.
For the time being, he belonged here.
He would live and fight here.
He was now one of the people of this favela.
That meant he had to familiarize himself with every corner where a battle might occur.
Given Elena’s limited strength, she was unlikely to attack another faction first.
Any conflict would most likely be a defensive battle over territory.
While showing him around, Camilla took Rock to the favela restaurant she had mentioned earlier for lunch.
They ordered a classic Brazilian dish of rice served with black beans and stewed beef.
Each serving cost twelve reais.
During the meal, Rock noticed that the portions were generous and the seasoning was rather salty.
There was plenty of meat and not much in the way of vegetables, but the overall flavor suited his tastes well enough.
Camilla ate with obvious enjoyment.
Halfway through the meal, Rock asked the owner for two glasses of juice.
The food was delicious, but it was simply too salty.
“Olá, Camilla, Locke.
Are you finished eating?
Elena wants to see you.”
Carlos, the mustachioed man who had inspected the guns the previous day, entered the restaurant with a smile.
He had clearly come specifically to find them.
An AR-15 was slung across his back, and a quick-draw holster was strapped to his thigh.
A Glock fitted with an extended magazine sat inside it.
“All right, Carlos.
We’ll come with you now.”
Camilla stood without hesitation, took Rock by the hand, and followed Carlos out of the low-ceilinged restaurant.
She did not seem surprised that Elena had found them so easily.
Carlos led the way through the narrow alleys, with Rock and Camilla following behind.
Once a little distance opened between them and Carlos, Rock quietly asked Camilla, “What kind of person is Elena?”
…